


The Enforced Mingling of Many Misanthropes

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls, Recess
Genre: Canon Welding, Crack Pairing, F/M, Gen, Grenda is a Lioness Warrior Princess and you can't tell me otherwise, M/M, Multi, Spot of Language, Thompson is a sucky lifeguard, props to an awesome amv, someone take the internet from me, something I needed out of my system
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mabel and Dipper are turning 18, and they aren't the only ones observing the event. All the way from a suburb entirely east of weird (aka Gravity Falls itself), some nostalgic characters are making a rather unexpected debut. Chapter Four puts focus on Grenda, Thompson and Pacifica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Crooked Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> This idea simply wouldn't leave me be. To distract myself from the Gravity Falls hype, I've been watching Recess and the two ganged up on me and wouldn't let go.

"No, it's just right! Congratulations, but it has to be crooked, Soos-Of-The-Roost. On this day, we turn eighteen. On this day, there shall be disorder!" Mabel crowed. Soos sweated from the strain of trying to fix something imperfectly. Dipper, pitying the handyman for stumbling into the middle of one of Mabel's many whims, helped him drape the loud birthday banner over the pool in fashionable disarray. Dipper couldn't believe Mr. Poolcheck had rented them the place-- Mabel had 'taken care of it like a leaf blower turned on a pack of gnomes', which he assumed was a euphemism for "Grunkle Stan turned him over to the Sicilian Mafia," "I glued him to the floor," or "Waddles ate him." Whatever form of persuasion had taken place, he felt better knowing that they were paying with legitimate money (courtesy of his wonderful girlfriend, who persisted in also hand-making another gift as well as successfully keeping the details a secret). 

Quite a few people were already there; they must've invited the entire town. Manly Dan was sparring with the inflatables (which Tyler continued to blow up with a gleam in his eye), Fiddleford was discussing the local marriage politics with Lazy Susan, whose husband, Schebulock the gnome, was perched on her shoulder whistling the theme song to Hogan's Heroes, Tambry was coercing Robbie into taking selfies in the water with Thompson as the unofficial lifeguard surrogate, and Wendy was helping Mabel and Pacifica re-arrange the snacks into likenesses of world wonders. His parents, shiny and new to Gravity Falls, were creased with bewilderment, but every so often their faces would unfold into smiles. Grunckle Stan was presumably on his way from the airport. 

"Who's the mystery guest, dude?" Soos inquired. Dipper started. Evidently, Stan and Menlow had arrived, and it was quite the spectacle. 'I've got to quit getting lost in thought when the entire point of the evening is to socialize,' he mentally berated himself. He hadn't talked to Menlow since they were both ten, to the disappointment of Dipper's mother, because Menlow was his cousin, and his mother was her twin: Mallory and Ebony (nee) Knox, thick as thieves. Puberty had been benevolent to Menlow, evidently; his head no longer resembled a melon, but you could probably slice one with his square jaw. His chocolate Knox hair was as immaculate as ever, and his glasses framed his cobalt eyes perfectly instead of dwarfing his entire face. Dipper could only hope his personality had shaped up likewise. 

Mabel popped over next to Soos. "Cousin Menlow is like a pastier mom version of Dipper whose also obsessed with rules. And compartmentalizing. It's probably his fetish. Oh, he brought me a boy!" In the blink of an eye, she bounded off to greet the pair before Dipper could address her lack of a filter. He tugged at his bow-tie and prayed to his nick-name's sake for survival on that evening.


	2. Highlighters in Portland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ gets his first taste of the west coast (and some PDA). Takes place prior to the previous chapter.

The first thing a semi-snoozing, disoriented Theodore Jasper 'TJ' Detweiler saw upon touching down in Oregon was the familiar, angular form of his boyfriend, whom evidently was already repacking the carry on. That, or he had a rabbit in his lap and he was trying to teach it sign language. This new environment was still rather bleary to TJ's sleep addled eyeballs. When he could see clearly, blinking owlishly, Menlow plopped what was indeed a carry on bag between them and planted a kiss on the slope of his jaw. 

"Good evening, sleepyhead," was his second greeting. TJ merely raised an eyebrow at Menlow, the nineteen year old's version of sticking your tongue out at someone. Not that TJ was above doing so occasionally, but if you pulled that card all of the time it could never be played tastefully. "Dreaming happens to be a prime source for hare-brained schemes," he informed his bespectacled significant other, " and folly in the--" 

TJ was hastily cut off by an abrasive pair of lips and had to chuckle to himself. Nothing prompted his boyfriend to be more flustered yet authoritative than the phrase "in the bedroom". It also enabled TJ to win just about any argument. Yes, said phrase had definitely surpassed ''whomps'' as his ace in the hole. 

"Sirs?" droned the buxom, stony faced flight attendant, and TJ was forced to shove Menlow back over the barrier of the innocent little carry on bag. "We've arrived in Portland. Do try to contain your excitement, but it's time for you to vacate the plane." 

"That degree of chastisement was uncalled for," Menlow murmured as they were lugging their belongings to the entrance, cheeks still an endearing highlighter pink. TJ shrugged. "Eh, she rides planes all day. She's probably fed up with her existential early mid-life crisis." "There you go again, shilling out psychological evaluations that soften the sharp, barbed edges of human judgement." Menlow remarked, with a fond undercurrent coloring his words. "I wonder which one of you will break the other: Tough, cynical Stanford Pines vs. sentimental, wielder of justice Theodore Jasper Detweiler." 

TJ snorted. "You haven't seen your cousins in eight years, but one mass text from the social butterfly of the bunch and you've dropped everything except that sacred tie you're wearing and coaxed your boyfriend into flying all the way to the opposite coast to congratulate said cousins and catch up-- yet I'm the sentimental one?" 

Menlow considered TJ's latest blurb of a speech. "Okay, we're a sentimental duo," he amended. 

TJ grinned as an older man donning a fez and holding a sign bearing the glittery message 'Mom Dipper and His Man' shifted into view. "Damn straight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three guesses as to who wrote up the glittery sign... also, the new episode shook me in a good way. I'm so awkward trying to talk to you lovelies outside of the story realm...like here is my entire completed work, love it in my absence I've shown myself out :S   
> Any ideas about the Recess elements? I'm sad that the fandom for it is practically dead...I'd love to collaborate with someone to boost it a bit more. TJ and Menlow aren't exactly like their old counterparts because I've evolved them....in a good way, or can I improve this? I just feel like people aren't the same as they were at ten...can't wait to touch more on Menlow's old latent wild streak.


	3. The Physical Embodiment of 'Overkill' (Sans Fondant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel instigates her astute judgement of character (powers of the heart, not unlike a recent episode C;) and assesses TJ fairly swell for somebody who has yet to learn his name.

When it comes to parties, overkill is just an eight letter word to Mabel Pines. If you threw it at her, she was liable to literally snatch said 'overkill' out of the air, drench it in fondant, and make it the centerpiece. An eighteenth birthday party for herself and Dippin' Dots was absolutely no exception, and as Grunckle Stan, Post Puberty Menlow, and his boyfriend squinted to take in the threshold, she felt an extra burst of pride for the two hours spent on hands and knees and face and bosom and every part of her that could reach, scouring the concrete pool area until it shone. Not only did the pool look fabulous, she thought Mr. Poolcheck might be able to forgive her for mailing his whistle to Botswana, prompting him to chase after his one true love. (Mabel figured the pool was more like a scorned lover to him, considering what it had done to his hand. Like every other resident of Gravity Falls, the man had his failed romances...albeit odd, intimidating ones riddled with inanimate partners.) 

Menlow removed his glasses to rub his eyes as a few of Paz's peacocks sauntered by. Physical embodiment of overkill sans fondant this time, check. Mabel would never admit it to Dipper, but like him, she often had lists of her own. Hers were a bit more 'unorthodox' by his standards. Also, she doesn't write her lists down. She simply takes care of them. 

Like the action prone girl Mabel tended to be, she launched herself at Menlow, wrapping her powerful arms around his lithe middle and twirling him like a ballerina. The other man, whom she had previously described as 'brought' (for her, although in jest), was much more interesting than any gift Menlow truly might have presented. (Knowing Menlow, the gift was probably stowed away in a carry on so she wouldn't break it on impact....like his dignity. It was so shattered, heh heh.) 

Anyway, the man had a flair to him. He stood upright, but with his hands tucked in his pockets, as if he was ready to launch into action, yet content where he was. His face, tan and open, was dusted with freckles, stars trailing up to the chocolate supernovas that were his eyes, which held a glint of caution, probably because she was still spinning his boyfriend like a top. He was also grinning though, and it was a shit-eating grin, so score. 

Yup, she thought as she released her semi-long-lost cousin, this guy was probably going to get the Mabel stamp of approval.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is coherent, I went off on some tangents there! I wanted to try a Mabel-centric chapter with no dialogue...does it work?


	4. Grenda Crafts Her Own Storyline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you weren't crazy about the remnants of the Recess cast, never fear, here is an intermission of sorts, featuring Grenda as a Lioness BAMF (kinda) aside as she does her own thing. And rescues a certain someone. (I never thought I'd induce this sort of romance...)

Poor Thompson wasn't the best lifeguard, Grenda observed, wading out to rescue him from the deep end for the ninth time. The guy was plain frazzled, always. Uncomfortable, and kind of miserable, like Grenda when she didn't get 200 crunches in or her brothers turned her bras into slingshots. The boogersnots. Grenda scooped Thompson up in her fortified, steady arms and wasted no time in gently depositing him on the warm concrete. 

Pacifica and Dipper were the closest; everybody else was with Mabel, smothering the new guys. Normally Grenda would be first in line, but she couldn't ignore Thompson, who'd basically already been smothered. Nine times. By a chlorine infested pool. 

Maybe Thompson should invest in some water wings. Or a hot hefty chick (like Grenda) who would be happy to keep him afloat (like Grenda). 

Pacifica directed Dipper Mabel's way with a peck and a flick of his infamous hat. Not for the first time, Grenda marveled at the way they seamlessly communicated without words. As somebody who wasn't always the most sucessful with words herself, it was the sort of relationship she envied. 

Pacifica tsked, crouching between savior and the water-logged...savee (like the whole teacher/teachee thing...? Grenda thinks this is right). Pacifica was always pretty, but now she wouldn't have to eat make-up in order to be pretty on the inside. Her natural raven locks are bundled in a pony-tail, simular to the kind Grenda used to sport more often, and it dangles over her finely sloped fair shoulders as she preforms a chest compression for the upteenth time that evening. She is almost shaped like an hourglass, but her hips are a tad too big for that decription. 

Hey, nobody's perfect. Except for Mel Gibson. As for Thompson, Grenda doesn't like him for his looks, aside from his impressive, rumpled brown hair and cute, wide jaw. It's almost as cute and wide as hers. 

He sputters back to life, baby blue eyes roving, gasping to take in the latest scene. They settle between her and Pacifica, fixed on the crowd glued to Mabel and Dipper. "They didn't catch me..." he mumbled, and Grenda's warrior lioness heart cracked just a little. She reached for his adorable face with a large yet daintily shaped paw. 

"No..." she rumbled a little, "but I have. Nine times. And..." She swallows. (Pacifica shoots her what is supposed to be an encouraging smile that is actually somewhat intimidating. Grenda thinks it used to be a Butler-clean-this-up-or-else smile.) "If you'll have me, I'll be your lifeguard. Lioness! I mean girlfriend!" She screwed her eyes shut, she's botched it now. She didn't know she wanted this until so very recently and she's already botched it...

He's...kissing her hand? Despite how slick everything is from the pool, Grenda could swoon. It's the kind of thing that only happens in romance novels, or to Mabel. Yet there they were. 

He smiled and said, "I think I'd like that."


End file.
